"The Prospector produced a bag of twenty-dollar gold pieces and shook it. 'Here it is,' he said, 'this gentleman and myself have made up the amount—$600.'
"'Well,' shouted Judson, 'give me the money and take the cursed claim, buried gold and all, and much good may it do you! I will go away—far away from here. My God, to think that I should sell a rich claim like that for nothing! But I wouldn't go back to it for all the gold in the world. Three times I have tried, and each time that dog devil met me at the edge of the desert, grinning at me with the face of my dead partner. Here are the photographs and the map, take them and go, my head aches; go away and leave me.'
"He buried his face in his hands, groaning and muttering to himself. The Prospector put the bag of gold on the table, and taking the photographs and map left
the room. We followed him, closing the door softly behind us."
"Did you find the gold?" I asked.
"I didn't look for it," answered the Drummer. "They offered to let me in and give me a third interest for $300, but somehow I didn't like the idea, and the whole thing seemed uncanny, and it is lucky I didn't. The Prospector and the Eastern man got back a week later without having discovered the 'Mound of Eternal Silence,' both mad as hatters, and each laying the blame of the failure on the other. I have always wondered since if Judson was really as crazy as they thought he was."
"Why," I asked, "what made you doubt it?"
"Oh," answered the Drummer, "I can't exactly say I disbelieve his story, but—well, you see, about a month afterwards I was in Phœnix again, and one night I saw the Prospector and the lunatic taking a
drink at a bar together. A little later the Prospector passed me without seeing me. He was walking arm in arm with a stranger, and as they went by I heard him say, 'If I had the money I never would think of asking any one to go in with me. He calls it the "Mound of Eternal Silence...."'
"They passed on, and their voices were lost to me in the distance."